


The Marauders and The Beastly Uprising

by Saturn5



Series: The Marauders [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Novella, Prequel, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25021135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn5/pseuds/Saturn5
Summary: Four first year students get up to no good at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As the teachers struggle to give them a record number of detentions, something beastly is afoot at the school in the shadows. Can they piece together enough clues to figure it out?
Series: The Marauders [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811788
Kudos: 1





	1. Meeting in Diagon Alley

**Author's Note:**

> [If you've seen this before it's because I published this first in July 2015, but under quarantine, suddenly remembered it existed and re-read it. I thought it might be a nice thing to revisit and edit chapter by chapter as a writing exercise because I was rather impressed by 2015-me's plot and commitment to the canon. In fact, I'm a little afraid of editing this five years later without having read the books for years! Either way, please enjoy the mostly similar, but updated version of this as I continue to add to it.  
> In 2015, I had the full intention of writing 7 novellas for the Marauders' years at Hogwarts, and I think I got as far as four chapters into their second year. Let's see how far we get this time.  
> I'd also like to acknowledge that as a trans POC, I, in no way, associate or am a fan of J.K. Rowling. I've taken something from this story that is personal to me. All credit due to her character and world-building, as a disclaimer.]

Walburga Black, a notorious witch, had been through this exact activity so many times with her siblings, nieces, and nephews that it was a chore more than anything. Especially, this time. She watched her oldest son, the uncontrollable Sirius, bounce through Diagon Alley, where they were shopping for his supplies for his first school year. He sped past the other children, who were chirping about their new owls and cats, and pressed his nose against a window to examine a pure gold cauldron. Would his mother let him have it? Suddenly, another object caught his all-too-excitable eye. He clapped his hands at the sight of the newest broom being displayed: the _Nimbus 900_. Would his mother let him have this? When she finally caught up with him, Walburga turned up her nose. It upheld the theory that Sirius was truly the white sheep of the family. 

At the time, his excitement was an infallible shield against her snide glances. Nothing, not even his mother’s coldness could take away from the fact that he, Sirius Black, had just received his letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only days ago. It was obvious that it was going to come, he being part of a long line of pure-blood witches and wizards, but when he finally held the envelope in his hand, it seemed almost too good to be true. The crest of the school printed so perfectly, the words announcing he was to attend his first year – _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ – it was incredible. He had read the letter at least twenty times. He was going to be the greatest wizard on the planet, and he saw the current trip as gathering supplies for an adventure far, far away from home.

Walburga’s lips disappeared into thin lines as she pressed them tighter upon seeing her son flicking his new Cypress wand around and pretending to cast jinxes on passersby. Where had she gone wrong? Walburga exhaled, shutting her eyes. They had most of the things he needed, and she was glad, because she just wanted it to be over.  
Sirus was yanked away from the window of _Broomstix_ so fast that he thought he had apparated. Instead, he met the furious stare of his mother and almost immediately cowered on cobblestones.  
“Here!” she pushed the list into his hands with little patience, “Get your books. I’m only waiting for five minutes.”  
He peered around to see if anyone had noticed him flinch, tentatively taking the list from her. Before Sirius could ask her to come with him, Walburga already marched off in the direction of _Twilfitt & Tatting’s_. He bit the inside of his cheek, quite expressionless, as he watched her go, and then turned around to the unbelievable traffic coming in and out of _Flourish & Blott’s_. He hesitated. And then he smiled. She was gone.

The boy squished his way through the crowd, not knowing if he was right-side up, before landing at an unbelievable sight. He’d been inside _Flourish & Blott’s_ a number of times and wasn’t much of a bookworm, but the occasion was something special. Everything was special in the light of Hogwarts. All the boys and girls didn’t look as remotely excited as him, grinning from ear to ear. In fact, he had even seen a girl crying not to go. He felt almost personally offended.

He tried to get the attention of the shop assistants, but they ignored him for towering adults and seventh years with their own lists, and Sirius Black found himself pushed around and a little lost for words. He had a fleeting wish that his mother could actually pretend to care about him, when he was suddenly knocked right in the teeth by a rogue elbow. He toppled several steps backwards, clutching his mouth, before he tripped on an orphaned stack of books and landed on top of another boy. They both fell over in a fit of screams, and took down a couple of unsuspecting witches and wizards along with them like a line of dominoes.  
“James!” the boy’s father exclaimed, reaching to pick up the child whose hair was now messed up beyond repair.  
There was a wave of flustered mumbles as everyone pulled themselves up and Sirius got a proper look at the boy. He was about the same age as him, lanky with short black-hair and wearing a perfectly-fitted bright green jumper that was now untidily drawn to one side.  
“I’m sorry! Someone pushed me,” Sirius apologised, and offered his hand to James as he got up.  
James took it and laughed out loud as he patted his hair half-heartedly.  
“That’s alright, mate—I’m alright, Dad! Leave me alone!—just give me a little warning next time,” he chuckled, “James Potter. Who are you?”  
He was also laughing now, “I’m Sirius.”  
They shook hands intently, when Sirius felt a hand touch his shoulder gently and looked up. It appeared to be Mr. Potter, who was smiling down at the two boys. His father looked very little like James, save for his nose and figure. Instead, his graying light brown hair was neatly parted, and he had the beginnings of a thin grey beard. He seemed quite a lot older than any of the other parents in the shop.  
“Now, where are your parents, son?” he asked, “This time of the year _Flourish & Blotts_ is no place for kids to be—”  
“Dad, we’re not kids!” James protested, “We’re eleven! You—you are eleven, right?”  
Mr. Potter put his hands up defensively, trying to hide his amusement. By now, he had learned to take his son’s aggressive regard that he was constantly embarrassing him as a thing of which he would hopefully grow out. Hopefully.  
James looked at Sirius for an answer, but he ruefully shook his head. He didn’t want to make his new friend look like an idiot.  
“Twelve, actually,” he said, flushing red, “but I’m still going to be first year.”  
“Perfectly fine, Sirius,” Mr. Potter dissipated the boy’s embarrassment with a gentle smile, “Now, what’s your surname, young man? Who are your parents? Maybe I can see them from up here.”  
He jokingly stood on his tip-toes and James visibly cringed at his father.  
Sirius pulled a face and scratched his arm, “Er, it’s Sirius Black.”  
Mr. Potter glanced back down at him immediately. His eyebrows gave way to a quick flinch, as he seemed to digest this single syllable seriously, but soon resumed his gentle smile. This new information stopped the search for Walburga Black in its tracks, and he waved over a shop assistant and instructed her to get two of every item on his son’s list. She looked a bit confused, but then registered Sirius’s presence and nodded courteously.  
“You seem like a decent young man, Sirius,” Mr. Potter said, “Promise me you’ll make sure James here stays out of trouble? He’s got quite the knack for it.”  
“Dad!” James clenched his jaw.  
Sirius giggled at James’s dirty look launched in his direction. The side-eye came from the knowledge that somewhere in the back of his mind, James Potter knew that this boy, Sirius, was far from an angel himself. Excellent, he thought.

The shop assistant delivered the two sets of books into the arms of the young boys just as Sirius’s mother came crashing through the crowd. She pulled Sirius towards her so that some of his books fell out of his arms. Mr. Potter managed to catch a few and stack them back in Sirius’s arms.  
“Where have you been, you elf?” she chided, pushing some money into the shop assistant’s hands, “I said five minutes, not fifteen!”  
Sirius’s looked away as he felt James watching him, frozen with horror. Mr. Potter stepped forward.  
“It’s alright, Walburga,” he stated, gesturing for her to calm down, “Sirius just needed some help. He has all his books here. There’s no need for this scene.”  
“Fleamont Potter,” she acknowledged him with a subtle hint of animosity.  
She found herself a little more polite when addressing a fellow wealthy pure-blood, whether or not she liked them. And she didn’t like Fleamont. He was too liberal for her tastes, too accepting of the non-traditional—his cousin Charlus had been much more respectable in choosing to marry into the Noble House of Black. But Fleamont had married Euphemia of the Greengrass family, who Walburga considered to be a little loony. Liberal and loony was never a good combination for a family, she thought.  
“Your son, here, was just telling us that it’s his first year at Hogwarts,” he said conversationally, “Would you believe that my James is starting too?”  
She scanned the him with hasty disgust and no intention to reply, and then quickly pushed through _Flourish & Blotts_ again with Sirius in tow. He tried to fight his way back to the Potters if only to say thank you and goodbye, but she was too strong for him. Rather, he knew he would regret the consequences of resisting her fully. When they were outside in Diagon Alley, she made a sickened noise and her gaze fell on Sirius.  
“That, my boy, is what scum looks like,” she sneered, “Never associate yourself with those Potters.”  
Sirius frowned angrily into the distance. That was it. Now, he would make sure James Potter became his best friend.  
“Well, if that family is scum,” Sirius smirked, “then what is our family?”  
Walburga’s eyes flashed murder. She let go of Sirius to raise her hand and struck him deftly on the head. He winced, but did not stop grinning in defiance as she hit three more times. The more at-home wizarding families averted their gaze, knowing what Walburga was like, but the cowering Sirius brought on many onlookers from Muggle-born families. Some had even begun to step forward to intervene.  
“Do you strive for nothing but to bring shame to our name?” she shrieked, “Come on, you filth!”  
She grabbed his elbow violently, turned on the spot and apparated from Diagon Alley back to their home at 12 Grimauld Place.

The loud bang of their disappearance made a plump little boy in _Ollivander’s Wand Shop_ squeak with fright and throw the wand he was holding into the air. Mr. Ollivander caught it with amazing agility and offered it back to the boy.  
“Going to want to be careful with that, my boy,” he winked, “Hornbeam is a little hard to come by these days.”  
“Say thank you, Peter,” Mrs. Pettigrew, his mother, said sternly, “and apologise to the nice man.”  
“Sorry,” he murmured, barely audible, “Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.”  
Mrs. Pettigrew’s hand was placed gently on Peter’s shoulder. Her arms were rather long and it gave the impression of Peter being pressed under the wing of some great bird. The boy’s Muggle father mused about the shop shyly poking about and examining the other boxes of wands. He turned around with a jump when his wife cleared her throat.  
“Please don’t do that, honey,” she said with a strained smile.  
She reached into her purse and paid Ollivander for the Hornbeam wand with a smarmy grin. It was a trademark of the Pettigrew family. Her son had inherited her oily smile, although one only saw this when he wasn’t frowning in worry and clinging to his mother’s dress.

Mr. Pettigrew took his wife’s hand as she held it out assertively, and they walked back into Diagon Alley. Peter peered around for the source of the bang that had caused him the fright, but to no avail. Something definitely had happened though - witches and wizards whispering amongst themselves if they should have done more.  
His mother let go of his hand to scan the list of items they still had to buy, tapping the list decisively.  
“Honey, would you please go get these books for little Peter?” she gave him the list and pointed to Flourish & Blotts.  
“Yes, dear,” he did a small bow, instead of a nod and scampered off to the shop.  
Mrs. Pettigrew put her hand back on Peter’s shoulder and gently prodded him into the _Magical Menagerie_.  
“There are wild animals in here,” she cautioned, “so don’t be alarmed, Peter.”  
He was thankful for the warning because as soon as they entered the shop a great sparkling firecrab let out a plume of blue flames at him from its cage. Peter screeched and moved away from it and stood next to the barrel of Puffskeins infinitely more harmless.  
The different owls, now flustered, stared down at him. He saw a particular tawny little owl that struck a chord in him. It was gorgeous and he was sure to be the talk of all the first years if he walked in with it on his arm. People who worship him every time he got a letter, wouldn’t they? He was about to tell his mother, when the grouchy shop assistant shuffled towards them.  
“One common barn owl,” she announced without looking up, “That’s fine, right, Peter?”  
He didn’t say anything and she paid the man, who in turn gave her the cage of a very sickly looking bird. When she handed it to Peter it nearly bit his finger clean off.  
“What do we say?” she asked as she took his hand.  
“Thank-you, mother,” he mumbled.


	2. Journey to Hogwarts

A relatively ordinary-looking couple made their way through a busy King’s Cross Station with their son clutching both of their hands. The woman was thin with worry, you could see it in her eyes. The young boy had never been in a place with so many people and although it didn’t scare him, it worried him immensely too. There were too many possibilities for his liking. His father however seemed a little oblivious to his awkward state of mind.

They stopped in front of the barrier column between Platform 9 and 10. His mother let go of the trolley carrying his belongings and turned to his father, frowning.  
“So, remind me one more time, Lyall,” said Hope Lupin, “How does this exactly, well, work?”  
He smiled patiently, “Just like I said, we walk straight through the barrier when no one is  
looking and the train will be on the other side. Are you ready, Remus?”  
Remus looked up nervously, “Dad, are you sure the Headmaster—?”  
“He said he’ll take care of everything, my love,” Hope crouched to look at her son, “He’ll be waiting to meet you as soon as you’re sorted into your house.”  
Still unsure, Remus merely looked away and allowed his mother to kiss him on his forehead. It’s not that he disbelieved her when she dismissed all his worries, but, as he scanned the station again, there were so many possibilities. He had heard everything the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, had to say to him and his parents, but still couldn’t shake the bad feeling he had about going to Hogwarts. It all seemed to be in order, and now for the first time he was to be separated from his parents. It had always been an adult’s job to look after him, but now the responsibility fell on him, and Remus John Lupin considered himself a lot of responsibility.

Hope got up again, and linked arms with her husband. They checked left and right and then rushed straight through the wall, both Hope and Remus shutting their eyes in an anticipation. When he opened them, his mouth fell open and he felt a wave of the purest joy. For a fleeting second his nervousness vanished as he laid eyes on the shiny steam engine right in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to race into one of the carriages to join the other children, but his expression quickly fell. It felt like an even bigger risk now that the idea was tangible. His fingers tightened around his father’s.

“Hey, there, now,” coaxed Lyall, “Come on, Remus. Don’t worry so much. You know that I wouldn’t send you if I wasn’t sure you’d be alright. You’re a responsible lad and miles ahead of your peers.”  
Remus shivered a little, “I don’t know, dad. I changed my mind. I don’t want to go.”  
Lyall ruffled the mousy brown head of hair, “Remmy, I know you’ll do us proud. Your mother and I are already so proud of you. Hogwarts will have gained an excellent wizard as soon as you step on that train.”  
Hope beamed at him, “And we’ll write to you every chance we can!”

Reluctantly, he let go of their hands and kissed his parents goodbye. Their certainty had to be good enough for him – there was nothing else he had, but his parent’s confidence. So, he took it, and planned to run with it as far as it would take him. 

The train was seconds away from leaving as he finally hopped on. It shook him as he stumbled through the passage trying to find an empty compartment, only fully understanding then how loud trains could be. _This was it_ , he thought. It was a giddy rush of too many emotions and thoughts, but if he was forced to admit, there was a part of him that was truly excited. He had heard some many stories of the school that it seemed more like a fantasy, and now, here he was being deafened by the machinery of the Hogwarts Express, watching rolling hills suddenly appear before him as they emerged from the tunnel.

“Anything off the trolley, dear?”  
He spun around, “No, thank you, ma’am.”  
“Ma’am?” the Trolley-witch raised her eyebrows, “Well, you must be the most polite child I’ve ever come across on this train. You better politely find a seat before you’re knocked clean off your feet, dear!”  
He quickly nodded in agreement, and pressed on down the corridor. Fixing his sweater for a good impression, he clambered into a compartment only occupied by two students who also appeared to be first year. The girl had a bright face framed by auburn tresses that ran past her shoulders, and the boy seemed terribly upset about something. She paused her efforts to calm him down as Remus walked in.  
“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” he asked tentatively, “Everywhere else is full and the trolley-witch is on my case.”  
“We don’t mind,” said the girl, but the boy didn’t look as happy.  
He sat down quietly and took out a book not wanting to disturb them, but the girl leaned towards him so much so that he looked up.  
“That’s _Dracula_!” she exclaimed, meeting his eyes, “I didn’t know wizards read books like that.”  
“Oh, well, my mother’s a Muggle,” he shrugged, “and she gives me a lot of books to read. I like monster books.”  
“I like reading too,” she confessed, “Both my parents are muggles.”

Remus looked at the other boy in the hope that he would join in on the conversation, but he only stared. It felt like his dark eyes bored into all his secrets, which made him revert back to the girl’s warmer eyes. They were a little red, which made him wonder whether she had been crying earlier too.  
“I’m Lily Evans, by the way,” she announced and then pointed to her companion, “This is Severus.”  
“Nice to meet you both,” he nodded, “I’m Remus, but… Are you two alright?”  
Lily rolled her eyes, “We just ran into some awful boys. I guess bullying isn’t only in the Muggle world.”  
“What house are you hoping to get into?” Severus interjected suddenly, hoping to steer the topic away from his humiliation.  
Remus looked down at his book for a while. He knew a lot about the Hogwarts houses from his father, who had tried to give him a magical education, assuming he would never go to Hogwarts. 

There was Ravenclaw, where Remus was sure he might like because he liked reading, but beyond that he didn’t much enjoy being confused by puzzles. Hufflepuff might do – he considered himself a well-meaning individual – then again, wouldn’t he be bored with all that hard work? He considered Gryffindor, but ultimately pushed it aside because he couldn’t afford to be that brazen. Totally without ambition, if there was one house he knew for sure that he didn’t belong in, it was Slytherin.  
“I don’t really care,” he said, “but Ravenclaw seems like I’d fit in. What about you two?”  
“Slytherin,” they said together.  
He nodded, unsure whether he was supposed to commend them or otherwise. Being in contact with children his age was a particularly new activity for him.

The rest of the journey passed with him and Lily talking about their favourite Muggle books, while Severus watched them closely, occasionally interrupting whenever something magical was mentioned. He felt a little sorry for Severus, who he could see was giving his best shot, despite his awkwardness. An easy target for bullying.

At a certain point, Remus noticed that Severus and Lily were both in their Hogwarts uniform already, and remembered his. He excused himself to go the bathroom to change into his robes, which had been his father’s before him. It was a stranger standing in the mirror before him - a terrible thing for an eleven year old boy to think of himself. He traced the scar running down his neck, the small one on the edge of his eyebrow, and then looked down at his palms for a very long time. His eyes were still there when he met them again. For a little bit, his trust wavered in the grown-ups who had made all his decisions.

When he got back, Severus had fallen asleep.  
“Were you afraid when you got your letter?” Remus whispered to Lily.  
She winced behind a smile, “A little. Even with all that Severus has told me, it’s a little scary.”  
“Yeah,” Remus nodded, looking out of the window, “My dad always taught me to laugh at your fear, that’s the only way to disarm it. Like a Boggart.”  
Lily didn’t say anything, and looked away when Remus turned back to her. He touched his neck. They didn’t say anything for the rest of the way.

It was longer than they all anticipated, and it was already nighttime before they rolled in. The three of them were getting on splendidly when the train stopped, they all shuffled out and met a massive hairy-looking man holding a lamp. The older students were looking at him quizzically and then, deducing the situation, started groaning loudly. 

“Changed plans! Changed plans!” the half-giant bellowed, “The carriages a’ out of order! All years goin’ ter the boats! Make yer way to the firs’ years’ boats!”  
“That’s going to take forever!” a slim blonde student complained, “My father will hear about this!”  
“Alrigh’, Lucius,” the man waved him off.  
Remus turned around to look for Lily and Severus, but the crowd had separated them and he was all by himself in a sea of sighing students. Everyone trudged to the boats, whispering about why they couldn’t use the enchanted carriages, and complaining about being squashed in together. The seventh years seemed less slighted, embracing the nostalgia in their final year at the school. Remus counted himself lucky enough to be in a boat filled with only first years and no grumpy seniors.

As they drifted on the lake towards the magnificent castle overhead, they all took turns to introduce themselves. There was Pasiphae Heartling, a very pretty girl with short brown hair, Peter Pettigrew who appeared to speak in murmurs and mumbles, Henry Crabbe, Jenny Setzkorn who only stopped spewing facts about Hogwarts to introduce herself, and Joesph Benn, who had many Quidditch ambitions.

“Do you think there are faeries?” Pasiphae asked Remus as they got out of the boat.  
He merely shrugged and carried on walking up to the castle. He was becoming exceedingly miserable as the night went on, regretting his excitement and wishing to be home with some nice hot chocolate. He felt lost and excluded. The scars drew a lot of eyes and whispers, making him sulk even more.

A tall, thin witch addressed the lot of them as soon as the seniors had made their way into the Great Hall. Remus knew it to be Professor McGonagall, according to his father’s description — she was very strict apparently, and he was to take her subject of Transfiguration very seriously. She told them to arrange themselves in alphabetical order and there was a mass scurrying.

“When I call your name, you will sit on the chair and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head,” she declared when everyone went silent, “Once you are sorted, you must make your way to your relevant house table.”  
The first years chattered and fussed over their preferred and abhorred Hogwarts houses, as they entered the Great Hall behind Professor McGongall, gasping at the cloudy ceiling and floating candles.  
Professor McGonagall brought out the Sorting Hat. Once the Hall had become silent, the shabby hat burst into song:

_Four noble houses in Hogwarts stand,  
Four places for these young faces t’ land,  
Slytherin is home to those of cunning  
Greatest bloodlines there are running  
The heart of bold belongs to Gryffindor  
Acts of courage and valour lie in store  
The Hufflepuff remains loyal and true  
But do not underestimate what these can do!  
Ravenclaw shapes the brightest minds  
Wordy witches and wizards will find their kind.  
So wherever in Hogwarts you find your fates  
Remember, young friends, even water has many states!_

The Great Hall burst into applause and then one by one they were called up in front of the entire school. Remus watched a boy with long black hair, who Professor McGonagall announced as “Black, Sirius!” concentrate harder than anybody, as the hat was placed on him—it seemed his head might explode at any second. It took a while before the hat shouted, “Gryffindor!” he let out a deafening whoop and punched the air violently amongst the cheers. Even Professor McGonagall was a little taken aback.

Later down the line, Remus saw Lily Evans, being sorted in Gryffindor too, before the Hat even touched her head. She looked a little disappointed. Remus peeked over his shoulder - she wasn’t half as distraught as Severus was.

Finally, it was his turn. Unafraid, he sat down on the stool as McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Honestly, Remus just counted himself lucky to be at Hogwarts, he didn’t care about the politics of houses. He was proud of himself, and he wasn’t going to let his parents down. He searched the faces of the youthful expectant students in front of him. There was no way he going to slack on being responsible.

“Gryffindor!” the hat announced, upon that thought.


	3. Nimbus 900

The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, rose to his feet when the last student was sorted. He appeared to be in a cheerful mood, braiding the end of his beard as he prepared to speak. The entire Hall became quiet. He looked at all the new, expectant faces from the podium.  
“Welcome to Hogwarts!” he announced sunnily, “To both new and returning students, welcome! I apologise about any inconvenience caused making your way to the castle, especially to the second years, who I’m sure were very excited for their carriage ride this year. I’m afraid I cannot do you further injustice by keeping you from your meal. Enjoy!”

James Potter’s eyes grew three times their sizes as heaping piles of roast potatoes, lamb chops, assorted pies and chicken appeared in front of him. For a second, he was so overwhelmed that he forgot that he could move. Sirius nudged him in his side.  
“Alright, James?” he sputtered while gulping down hearty mouthful of Yorkshire pudding.  
“I—I—Is this real?” he stuttered as he ventured to reached for a single chip, “Merlin’s Flying Socks, I’ve died and gone to Heaven.”  
Sirius nearly had water coming out through his nose when James began to eat. The pile of food on his plate was taller than him and James had scoffed it all down in less than ten minutes. He reached for more when suddenly the food disappeared. His heart sank, but he quickly resumed scooping up things when the table was replenished with deserts of every kind—apple pie, treacle tart, jam doughnuts, and jelly.

As soon as their stomachs were somewhat satiated, Dumbledore took the podium once more to remind the students of the rules for the year. Peter Pettigrew listened intently - his mother had many rules, so the appearance of following them came naturally to him. Of course, what happened in the shadows were entirely another business.  
“Now that dinner is concluded, I unfortunately have the responsibility to inform of some sombre news,” Dumbledore began, “Perhaps your parents or guardians have kept it from you, skirted around the truth… but under Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I see no benefit to hide it from you.”

“Oi,” a sixth-year Gryffindor whispered down the table to no one in particular, “he’s going to talk about that prance-y Lord Voldemort wizard and suchlike.”  
“Who’s that?” Remus whispered back, but the sixth year just pointed for him to listen to Dumbledore.

The Headmaster continued, “It appears that there is a following developing behind a wizard who asks to be called Lord Voldemort. He is after power, make no mistake. The type of power that doesn’t last very long. The type of power that doesn’t care for its followers. I tell you all this, which your parents not have, because we are young minds here, in need of shaping, and that inevitably there will be a reaching out from Mr. Voldemort.   
“I ask you to resist this temptation, and I ask two more things from you this year: that we all work together to keep Hogwarts a safe haven to all those are lost, and that we all keep each other informed.  
“Understood? Right, let us move on. This year we welcome Professor Mpho Dlamini from Ugadou School of Magic, here to temporarily fill in as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher…”

After listening to Dumbledore’s address, the first years were asked to follow the prefects. James quickly found Sirius in the small group of new recruits and squashed himself behind him. A decent poke in the ribs told Sirius he was there.  
“Wait ‘til my mother hears about this!” Sirius beamed as he and James were led to the Gryffindor common room, “My cousin already gave me a nasty look when I sat down at the table.”  
“Who’s your cousin?” James asked.  
A Gryffindor prefect, Bertram Aubrey, called for silence when they all stopped in front of the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, a portrait of a fat lady. She glossed over the new comers and nodded in approval.  
“Narcissa,” Sirius answered from the corner of his mouth, “The one in Slytherin that looked like someone farted near her. She’s the worst. And she always with her equally farty boyfriend.”  
Only managing to stifle it for so long, James Potter clutching his stomach and howling with laughter as the everyone spun around in alarm. The boy behind him also started laughing softly.  
“Oi!” Bertram scolded, “I thought I said no talking! Who are you two?”  
“James,” he continue chuckling, and then took a deep breath, “Potter!”  
Sirius was pinching his lips together in an effort not to join his friend, but the prefect’s gaze drilled into the boy behind Potter instead. The boy stopped laughing immediately and stood bolt upright.  
“Peter Pettigrew,” he squeaked, “Please, I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to.”  
Bertram folded his arms, “Well, I’ll be giving your names to Professor McGonagall and the new caretaker, Argus Filch, with the suggestion to look out for you.”

And with that remark he turned on his heel to face the portrait. James wiped the tears from his eyes with a soft chuckle before punching Sirius in the back playfully. They both noticed Lily Evans glaring at them as if they had just performed an Unforgivable Curse, which made not giggling even harder.

“Right,” continued another prefect, Millicent McGonagall, “You need a password to get into the common room. This week’s is ‘Hippogriff’. It changes every now and then, so keep your ears open for announcements and don’t forget the passwords.”  
“Do you think the password was once ‘password’?” Sirius murmured to James.

Once again, the prefects were interrupted by a fit of hooting; this time Peter kept out of it. Betram’s ears were beginning to turn red.  
“Potter!” he yelled, “So help me—”  
“It’s not his fault,” Remus Lupin suddenly exclaimed from the edge of the group, “I saw someone—uh, a Slytherin I think—hit him with a Cheering Charm.”

The two black-haired boys squinted at him. This wasn’t even remotely true, and if truth be told, Sirius considered his jokes way better than any charm. Remus widened his eyes at them and they quickly understood. He turned back to the prefects.  
“What do you know about Cheering Charms?” Betram sneered.  
“That they can go wrong and lead to uncontrollable laughter?”  
Millicent, standing next to him, stepped forward assertively, “What did this Slytherin look like? Describe him.”  
Lupin suddenly coloured and remembered the only boy he had noticed in Slytherin colours, “He was tall. Straight blonde hair and he, er, complains a lot.”  
The prefects found this a rather amusing description of Lucius Malfoy and let it slide, with a promise to not let Potter off next time.

The boys separated from the girls as they entered the warm Gryffindor common room and moved up to their respective dormitories. Remus found himself sharing with Sirius and James who jumped to thank him for getting them out of trouble, as well as the small boy who had laughed, Peter, and Seth Yaxley, who naturally gifted at divination and knew what a 7-year headache he was about to have.  
“Why’d you do that?” Sirius asked Remus, his eyes were alight with curiousity.  
Remus paused unpacking his things, “Don’t know. You two looked like you needed some help or something.”  
“Check this out!” interrupted James, as he leapt on Seth’s bed and knocked everything clean off of it.

He laid down a sleek and shiny broom that had ‘Nimbus 900’ etched in black on the handle. Peter gasped in delight. The other three made their way over to the bed. It was the exact broom that Sirius was staring at in the shop in Diagon Alley. Wicked.

“That’s the latest one!” Peter exclaimed.  
Sirius scanned it from handle to tail and then looked up, “We need test it out.”  
Remus did a double-take at him, “Test it out? Wha - Where?”  
By now, James was already grinning with intent and leapt off the bed with enough time to mount the broom. He sped around the limited dorm and nearly knocked Seth’s head off three times. Seth was even beginning to wonder if he was doing it on purpose.

“Think about it, Remus!” Sirius spread out his arms, “We’re in a gigantic castle, and if memory serves no one said anything about testing out brooms after hours.”  
“I think Professor Dumbledore—” Peter started.  
Sirius jumped at him excitedly and grasped his shoulders with both hands, “He said no walking around at night, not flying! Are we not Gryffindors? ARE WE NOT GRYFFINDORS?!”

James hollered it back. Remus weighed the pros and cons of the whole situation in his head. Hm, Sirius had a point, and James looked like he was having _so_ much fun on that Nimbus 900… It was the latest one. Technically, when he promised his parents he’d be responsible he wasn’t talking about this.  
“I’m in,” grinned Remus.

James punched his fist in the air in approval, and Peter nodded a little hesitantly. But Seth announced he wasn’t going by pulling the blankets over his head and ignoring any pressuring remarks cast at him. Eventually the four of them gave up trying to convince him and tiptoed downstairs and through the portrait on their very first night at Hogwarts.

James gave Remus a go on the Nimbus first because he still considered himself in debt for the Cheering Charm stunt. The boy wove in and out of the moving stairs, the wind rushing past him delightfully. He couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun - had he ever had this much fun? Playing with other children—how had his parents denied him this great joy? When he dove to the bottom of all the stairs, he jumped off the handle and fell clumsily against the wall. The others slid down the banisters, trying to catch up with him. No one was really paying any attention to the noise they were making.

James ran up to him eagerly, “Wow, you’re not bad, even though you almost killed yourself doing that dive!”  
Peter looked from James to Remus and made a grab for the broom, “I want to go next.”  
Remus instinctively put it behind his back, “You have flown before, right?”  
“Of course!” he went pink, “Just watch me!”  
He snatched the broom from him and got on to it with a lot of wobbling.  
“Wait you’re holding it wrong,” said James, grabbing the tail.

Suddenly it shot forward at full speed down the corridor with James clinging onto it for dear life. Peter was screeching as they zipped around a turn. All the portraits began waking up, scolding them as they broke some kind of speed record. James yelled as he saw the end of the corridor with no sign of them slowing down.  
 ** _CRASH!_**

Remus and Sirius had finally caught up. The broom was snapped in two and Peter and James lay unconscious in between various parts of a suit of armour. A thought barely escaped Sirius’s head when teachers they had not even met yet came rushing from all directions in their pajamas and dressing gowns. A plump matronly-looking woman in nursing gear rushed to the unconscious boys.  
“What’s going on—” Professor McGonagall gasped at James and Peter, as she emerged too, “Black! Lupin! Explain this at once!”  
They stood staring at her awkwardly for a minute before Sirius smiled weakly.  
“Cheering Charm?” he said tentatively.

The two boys watched James and Peter being carried off in floating stretchers. Argus Filch ran after them awkwardly carrying the two pieces of the Nimbus 900 like trophies for his new collection. They reluctantly turned back and met the awful stare of their Head of House. What a way to make an impression.

McGonagall refused to utter a word, she was so angry, but instead made a very suppressed gesture for them to follow her. Remus and Sirius exchanged desperate looks. They didn’t mean to get into trouble when the school term had not even begun, so they followed the her without protest, trying not to make it worse.

She lead them to a gargoyle statue and stated, “Sugar Quills!”  
The statue moved out of the way and revealed a spiralling stone staircase. At the top of it, they were faced with an ominous door that they both knew to belong to the Headmaster’s office. Sirius, who had not met Professor Dumbledore yet, feared the worst. He was having the time of his life and now he might be sent home without having waved his wand once.

Professor McGonagall told them to wait as she entered the room to explain what had happened, but the two boys were so frightened that they didn’t even speak to each other when she left them alone. After five minutes, she reappeared and held the door open for them. Remus was the first to enter, with Sirius clutching his elbow behind him. 

They examined the expansive room—it was covered in portraits of previous headmasters and had the faint sound of one or two strange, whirring instruments. There was a giant archway, up a few stairs, that framed a wooden with an impressive multi-coloured bird next to it. A man with a silver beard was stroking its feathers. He was wearing pajamas with tiny butterbeer corks patterned all over them. When he noticed them come in, he sat down behind the desk and gestured to the two seats in front of him.

“Please, Sirius, Remus,” he smiled, “have a seat.”  
They sat down quickly. Albus Dumbledore picked up a piece of paper on his desk and examined it for so long that they thought he had forgotten about them. The whirring instruments distracted them for a second, before Dumbledore’s soft voice won their attention.

“Professor McGonagall tells me you two, including the young James Potter and Peter Pettigrew had a late night adventure of the flying nature,” he grinned, but did not stop looking at the paper, “It says here that she suggests a double detention for all four of you as soon as the other two recover. My, my.”  
“Sir, I can explain!” interjected Sirius.  
Remus was in disbelief. The only thing Sirius could possibly explain was how they blatantly decided to zoom around Hogwarts on a Nimbus 900 in the middle of the night.  
Dumbledore laughed, “I’m sure you can, Sirius, but unfortunately no matter the reason, you still broke several school rules. In fact, I’m considering enforcing another.”  
“Another?” asked Remus.  
“Yes,” pondered Dumbledore, “Something along the lines of ‘All first years are reminded that they are not allowed to possess brooms.’ What do you think?”  
Sirius opened his mouth in protest, but Dumbledore’s gentle gaze confronted him and he fell silent.The phoenix beside them twittered a little as he fell asleep.

“I’m going to deny your double detentions this time in the spirit of, well, good fun,” he continued merrily, “but this is the only warning you’ll get, I’m afraid. Professor McGonagall won’t like it if I step in again, so please, Sirius, Remus, try not… to get caught.”  
There was a twinkling in his eye as he said the last few words, which made Sirius and Remus suddenly unsure of the whole conversation. Was the Headmaster suggesting they continue to misbehave?

Maybe the Headmaster somehow understood what how exciting it was to be in a new school. He cleared his throat and sat back to examine the two boys in front of him, who reminded him a little of himself when he was their age.

“What a welcome to Hogwarts! I always say each year must start with some sort of bang. Now, off you go, Sirius. I don’t want you tired for your first day at school,” Dumbledore hummed, “Remus, while I’ve got you here, we might as well have a word.”  
The very sentence made Remus cringe visibly, and Sirius saw. He hesitated to get out of his chair as he looked from Dumbledore to Remus and back again.

“Sir, it wasn’t his fault,” he protested, “I’m more to blame than him. I mean, Remus tried to stop —”  
Dumbledore put his hand up to calm the panicked boy, “I am quite aware. Don’t worry, your friend is in no trouble. Go on back to bed, now, dear boy.”  
Sirius searched Remus’s face which was now pale and facing downward intently.  
“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” he started up again, “I won’t leave him. Remus is my friend.”

The boy immediately met Sirius’s eyes as if he had been jolted by a lightning bolt. There had to be something in his ears, or had he actually heard someone call him their friend? Dumbledore smiled.  
“And I am sure Remus is incredibly grateful for your loyalty—”  
“Prof—”  
“It’s alright, Sirius,” Dumbledore’s tone suddenly became a little more assertive.  
Sirius looked back at Lupin, without a single intention to get up unless he was dismissed by Remus himself. Remus understood this from his searching facial expression. He smiled at Sirius Black. He had never considered himself good at making friends, perhaps because he never had the opportunity, but he realized he already had three friends, plus Lily and Severus, and it had only been one day. Remus nodded at him lightly.

Sirius got up with two slow glances back, and exited the office. He passed the gargoyle statue, looked left and right and then frowned. He hope he made the right choice to leave Remus in there all by himself.

Shaking the thought from his head, he spun around to walk back to the Gryffindor common room when he walked straight into something huge and soft. He bounced off the stomach of Rebeus Hagrid, landing on the floor.  
“Sorry, there!” the middle-aged game-keeper reached forward to pick him up, “Blimey, gotta watch where I’m goin’ these days. Nearly tipped a boat over this evenin’ too!”  
Sirius gawked at the size of the man. He had no idea what a giant looked like, but it could only be a giant standing in front of him.

“Yeh mus’ be Sirius Black!” he expressed amusement, “Heard all the teachers talkn’ of yeh four. You got a reputation ‘fore the term’s even start. Now, tha’s impressive, eh? Flyin’ a broom in the castle.”  
Sirius wasn’t sure what to say. The giant obviously seemed quite done over with the Nimbus 900 stunt, which immediately put him in Sirius’s good books. The man had taste.  
“If you’re here to see Professor Dumbledore, he’s talking to someone,” Sirius shrugged.  
Hagrid mulled this news over, “Hm. I’ll come back ‘nother time then. Not tha’ this can wait.”  
“Not that what can wait?” asked Sirius.  
“Never yeh mind,” said Hagrid who seemed to be shooing him off now, “Firs’ years don’ need to know ‘bout dragons and—”  
“Dragons?” squealed Sirius.  
Hagrid’s eyes widened, “I didn’ say tha’! I didn’ say tha’! Dumbledore’s gonna kill me…”  
Not wanting a repeat of Dumbledore’s lecture, Sirius sprinted off before Hagrid could stop him, still a little curious about Remus and now, why dragons were relevant to the school. Would they be in the Care of Magical Creatures elective? He sped up the stairs, panted the password, and then scurried off to bed. He could hear Seth’s snores, and Remus sneaking in an hour later.


End file.
